


Diplomacy by Any Other Means

by misura



Category: Exordium - Sherwood Smith & Dave Trowbridge
Genre: Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vi'ya plots her course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diplomacy by Any Other Means

_Madness,_ Vi'ya thought.

On Dol'jhar, it had not been unheard of for rivalries to turn into something less controlled during the Karusch-na Rahali- although it was never spoken of again, after, and rarely, if ever, led to a less hostile relationship between the two families involved.

_Small chance of that here._ Which had, perhaps, been the plan, tickling at the back of her head upon engineering this situation - she did not wish for another war (which was decidedly un-Dol'jharian of her, she supposed). She knew Brandon did not wish for another war.

She suspected, although she was not quite certain, that even Anaris did not truly wish for another war, although he might feel compelled to begin one, nonetheless.

By rights, their struggle ought to have been inequal. Anaris, after all, was Dol'jharian, while Brandon was not. On a purely physical level, they were far from evenly matched in a fight.

On an intellectual level, they might be a match for one another. _Might._ Intellect played little part in the Karusch-na Rahali, though. _Nor should it, perhaps._

Given time to think, Brandon might stop to question - not her motivations, which he was beyond doubting, but his own, in permitting this situation to endure, when he had little hope of gaining the upper hand and less to gain, if he did.

Anaris ... was not, perhaps, as fully in the grip of his instincts as he appeared to be. A bruise was showing on Brandon's arm from where Anaris had grabbed him earlier. By rights, Anaris should have broken it.

Bruises, in this case, implied control. A tight, almost rigid control on Anaris's part, which was interesting.

_What does he think to gain, in drawing this out?_ Pride would not permit a deliberate loss - to either man. Anaris had to know Brandon would sooner pass out than acknowledge him as his superior in any way.

_Of course, Brandon is not the only other one present here._

Still, if Anaris expected her to intervene at some point, to surrender where Brandon would not, then he was a fool. _Which means that's not what he's expecting. What, then?_

Brandon's eyes met hers, briefly - a flash of almost surprised recognition in his, followed by something akin to amusement (at himself, she thought, for nearly having forgotten her presence).

Anaris snarled, a near-animal sound, fully at odds with her earlier conclusion. Perhaps he was losing control of himself, the demands of the Karusch-na Rahali gripping him more tightly.

In which case, intervention had, perhaps, become a necessity, if not in the way he had intended it.

She moved forwards, noting the way they both turned to regard her, momentarily forgetting the other. Belying, again, the impression Anaris had been projecting, of being too far gone to be capable of thought.

_Dangerous,_ she thought, for all that Brandon was hardly less so. _Different._

She refused to acknowledge the third adjective that had occured to her, although she allowed it to reflect in her eyes, for both of them to see it. The emotion attached to it was, after all, mirrored in their own.

_Both of them._ It was a relief and a triumph at once.

She reached for Brandon in a gesture that was almost tender, a memory of what had happened between them on Ares welling up, then pushed him away, softly, as she aimed a kick at Anaris's left ankle.

_Mine._


End file.
